#a lot of decisions i’ve been made have been out of efforts to protect myself and make sure i can live a stable life as i grow

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

I’ll do anything

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: the day of the final battle, after Wednesday killed Crackstone and Thornhill showed up, things didn’t go as expected and you were there to protect Wednesday from being shot. (You two had already been dating but hadn’t defined you relationship yet.)

Warnings: blood, hospital stay

Pairing: Wednesday x Fem!reader

Hey there! Second short story with Wednesday! This is something I’ve been wanting to read but haven’t found it anywhere so I decided to make my own! I hope you like it✨

———

You reached the quad soon after Wednesday had disintegrated Crackstone. You thought you wanted to hug her, but she didn’t allow you to yet. As of now she only allowed you to stay close to her, but when you two were alone she would let you hold her hand. She was still getting used to this whole relationship thing.

You soon got to where she was and she turned around having heard your steps and your voice “Wednesday! Are you okay? Does your shoulder hurt!?” You asked her worriedly, unconsciously and gently putting a hand on her cheek, the one not covered in blood, And she surprisingly let you do so.

However she never had time to reply because suddenly you heard a noise you knew too well, the noise of a gun. Wednesday turned around to look at the redhead woman holding a gun onto her. “You brought a gun to a sword fight. That’s probably the first smart decision you’ve made today” the braided girl said with determination, to which the teacher replied “I might not get to kill every outcast, but at least I get to kill you Wednesday” she got the gun ready.

Unluckily it wasn’t like In every movie where someone would come rescue you, and luckily you were quick enough to react when the woman pulled the trigger. You pushed Wednesday away, taking the bullet that was meant for Wednesday. “(Y/N)!!” You heard Wednesday yell as you took some steps backwards and Thornhill giggled “well I guess two is better than one!” She was about to shoot again but this time Eugene came to the rescue with his bees.

As Eugene attacked Thornhill with his bees, you had the time to realize what had happened. You had taken a bullet in your stomach, and you did it for Wednesday. You did it for the girl you loved.

———

A COUPLE MONTHS BEFORE

You were in your history class when the class eavesdropped and started talking about sacrifice with your teacher. You weren’t really paying attention to what they were saying, as you were doodling on your notebook. You were drawing all kinds of things but you put a lot of effort in one specific drawing, a cello. Not just a random Cello, Wednesday’s Cello. Recently you had been going in her and Enid’s room a lot to hang out with them, and because well, you wanted to be with Wednesday. She enjoyed your presence, even though she didn’t show it much.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the teacher talk “I would never take a bullet for someone-“ he was about to add more to the conversation, but you interrupted him. “I would” everyone’s eyes turned on you, saying you were crazy for even wanting to do that and sacrificing yourself for someone else. “Why would you, (Y/N)? Do you not want to live your life to the fullest?” He asked crossing his arms, thinking you would take back everything you said.

“I do, yes. But at the same time I would rather sacrifice myself for someone I truly love and watch them live their life to the fullest. It wouldn’t be fair, to just be standing there and watch them die. If you love someone you’d do everything for them, taking a bullet at their place is one of those things. I know life should be worth living, but why live it with the remorse of not having done everything you could for your loved one?”

The class went quiet. Somehow everyone agreed with you now, and they looked to their loved one, except for you. Wednesday hadn’t wanted to make everyone know that you were dating, but with the tail of your eye you saw her expression soften, very slightly hinting a smile.

———

You fell on the ground. You fell on the ground and immediately put a hand over the wound. You didn’t know if the bullet had gone out from the other side but the only thing you could do to prevent loosing too much blood was put pressure on the bullet wound. You watched as your clothes started becoming a reddish color and tried to breathe regularly, but it was so freaking hard because of the pain.

Wednesday rushed to your side and she immediately moved you to see if you had an exit wound. You didn’t, the bullet was still inside of you and you were pressing it further inside of you. Having known her for a while now you could see a hint of worry in her eyes as she carefully moved your hand to see the wound.

“(Y/N)! What the hell did you do?” She asked with a mix of worry and anger, trying to find ways to prevent more blood from coming out. She couldn’t press on the wound or she would risk hitting some vital organs but at the same time there was nothing much she could do to help you.

“I t-took a bullet for you… I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die” you saw how she tried to keep her composure, but deep down she was going crazy. “Eugene go call for help, NOW!” Wednesday commanded. She was trying so hard not to freak out. You started whimpering more in pain even though you tried to be strong in front of her, but Wednesday could see how much you were in pain. She wanted to take it away from you, she wanted to be at your place because even though she enjoyed so much seeing someone in pain, seeing you in pain no, she couldn’t stand that.

“Wednesday it hurts-“ the pain was becoming unbearable and tears formed in your eyes. You looked at her deep in the eyes, you just wanted to feel her close to you. You slowly felt as strength was slipping out of your body. Wednesday looked at you as you said so, she was slowly starting to lose it: You were the first person she loved, she couldn’t have you die but right now she just had to wait for help to come your way. “I’m right here” Wednesday replied in her unusual soft voice tone, tears forming in her eyes as well as she took a hold of your hand which you held on tight to immediately.

Her free hand went up to your face, she delicately moved away some strands covering your eyes, then she wiped your tears and eventually kept a hand there on your cheek to comfort you. It was just the two of you, so she could afford to do so. You leaned into the touch of the girl you loved as you kept staring deep in her eyes. If you wanted to see one last thing before you die, it would be her.

Your breath was also slowly slipping out from you and you coughed, blood coming out of your mouth which made Wednesday even more worried “I’m tired…” She knew this was a bad sign. The tears she was refusing to let out became even more as she gently hit your cheek because you closed your eyes “No, no you have to keep your eyes open (Y/N)! Open your eyes!” Wednesday’s voice tone was getting even more panicked as she moved you to lay in her lap. You did open your eyes but it was unnoticeable “I l-love you Nes… s-so much…” this was the last sentence before you exhaled your last breath, and you had called her with the nickname she only allowed you to use.

“No you’re not doing this to me! Wake up!” She shook you by your shoulders and even tried slapping your face “(Y/N)! I swear to god if you die I’ll kill you! Even if you live I’ll kill you because you can’t leave me like this” she said, by now panic had taken over her and she couldn’t control her emotions… finally, a couple tears left her eyes and just when help arrived she recomposed herself and dried her tears, hoping no one would see she showed emotions.

She stood aside as she watched you being taken away to the hospital, the doctors trying to reanimate you as they said they heard a heartbeat. Enid ran to Wednesday “Wednesday! Are you okay?” The blonde asked as the brunette in front of her looked at the floor, most specifically at the place you had just bled out on. “You can cry you know..” she talked again. Wednesday looked at her, some tears were still in her eyes and Enid could see that, but she refused to let them go. “She will be okay right?” The brunette asked, back to her normal and emotionless voice tone. She had already explained to Enid why she wouldn’t cry. “We just have to hope she will.”

———

It had been hours by now and Wednesday had gone at the hospital with Xavier, Bianca, Enid, Ajax and everyone else, all of them worried and anxious to hear news about you. Wednesday was the most anxious of them all, she hadn’t sat down once and had been roaming around the waiting room. Her friends knew it was useless to tell her to sit down because of course she wouldn’t.

Eventually the doctor went to them and Wednesday was the first one to go up to him and listen to what he had to say. “She’s fine, but not as fine as we hoped.” The doctor started “and what does that mean?” Xavier was the one to talk, Wednesday even if she didn’t show it, was too shocked to even breath. “The bullet damaged some of her vital organs and we had to pur her in a coma to give her organs time to recover and regenerate the missing parts. Though we expect her to make full recovery within a couple weeks” he said before leaving. Everyone’s eyes turned to Wednesday, who soon walked away from the rest of them to go into the public bathroom. Everyone else told Enid to go check on her.

“Wednesday? Are you okay?” Enid said as she walked in the bathroom. Luckily it was empty and it was just the two of them. “It’s my fault Enid. It’s my fault she’s in this state” the short girl started. The build up of emotions was getting too much even for her “Nes it’s not your fault-“ she interrupted her “don’t call me that! Only she gets to… and yes it’s my fault, I brought this onto the school and I brought this onto her” tears were forming in the brunette’s eyes again. She only trusted Enid and (Y/N) with her emotions.

“Wednesday listen to me!” Enid said, pulling Wednesday out of her shock state as she put both her hands on her shoulders “she’s fine now, sure she needs to get better and wake up, but she’s fine okay? She’s not dying anytime soon. So now just go to her and talk to her. She’s in a coma and she must be scared as hell, she needs you”

For once, Wednesday took her friend’s advice and soon enough she was in your room. Seeing you attached to all of those machines and seeing the painful look on your face didn’t make her feel good at all. However she sat by you, holding your cold, lifeless hand and just like last time, moving some hair out of your face.

That week Wednesday was a mess. She did go to class but she was always thinking of you, she wanted and needed you to be okay, her friends constantly trying to cheer her up, but to no avail. The following week was even worst, until Enid received a call from the hospital saying that (Y/N) had waken up. Of course Wednesday was the first one to go there, and as soon as she entered your room, a wave of relief washed over her as she ran over to you, immediately taking a hold of your hand as her eyes filled with tears again.

“It’s okay to cry, you know” you told her which made her smile slightly, a tear escaping her eyes and rolling down her cheek “why did you do that?” She asked you, meaning why did you take the bullet for her “like I said that day In class, I would take a bullet for the person I love the most. And I love you, so…” you said smiling as you raised your hand up to caress her cheek and wipe the tear that had stained it. “You’re an idiot.” She said snd that made you giggle “wow I save your life and that’s the thank you I get?” You pouted jokingly and looked away from her, crossing your arms.

In that moment a weird atmosphere filled the room, that’s until Wednesday got closer to you and put a delicate hand on your cheek, turning your face to look at her “I love you too, (Y/N)” her voice was very low, only for you to hear. In the next second she closed her eyes and leaned in for a very soft kiss. Her cold, soft lips meeting your warm ones in that sweet action from Wednesday day. Eventually both of you pulled back for air, both your faces so close as the love of your life looked at you with nothing but love and lust with your eyes.

“I should get myself hurt more often if this is what I get next” you said smiling, this was the first time you two kissed and you couldn’t ask for anything better. “Shut up” she told you and sealed your lips in another kiss, just as soft as the other one.

[maggicsorceress]

I have so so very much to say about Chayanne and Tallulah so buckle up mfer’s this one is gonna be a long one!!!

Ahem, now that that’s out of the way…

I’ve been thinking a lot about these two while they were away, and especially now that they’re back. I was thinking to myself that they were really starting to give me the vibe of two siblings who have become MASSIVELY codependent on each other. And for a while I was all “oh they’re kids and it’s adorable so I’m gonna let this slide”, and while I do still think they’re adorable, since they’ve came back it’s become really blatantly obvious how attached to each other they are.

There’s nothing wrong with that! They basically have grown up together, been through a lot of traumatizing shit, and have rarely if at all left each other’s side during all those months that Tallulah lived with them. It makes sense that they’d be very attached to each other.

But I think now that Tallulah has started to really embrace the fact that Wilbur is probably not coming back, and she’s starting to move forward and heal from it, we’re getting to see her step into her independence a little more. She has her safety net, Phil and Chayanne and all the other eggs and parents on the island who love her dearly, so now she’s ready to take a step away from them all to be herself and independently herself. Which we see in her wanting to stay overnight in her house alone now, instead of in the bunker with Chayanne and Phil. It’s not because she doesn’t love and care for them, but because she wants to make her own space. Kinda like growing up in a way!

I think Purgatory really taught her a lot about herself in all honesty. She wasn’t alone even after she got separated from the rest of her siblings. She had Ramon and Dapper, but while they care about her and no doubt made an effort to make sure she was safe, it most likely wasn’t the almost overbearing overprotectiveness of Chayanne. I think her being out there with those two taught her a lot about exactly what she’s capable of when she is on her own to define herself.

When it comes to Chayanne, I think Purgatory and the weeks before taught him the exact opposite.

From the day he met Tallulah, he’s been responsible for protecting her. It’s evolved since then to encompass all of his siblings, but with Tallulah it’s a more pressuring responsibility. He’s the oldest, he needs to take care of them all, but he especially needs to take care of Tallulah. It’s a weird mixture between obligation, put on him by his dad, Wilbur, and himself, and a genuine love for his sister. When all the eggs returned from being basically in a coma for a week, Chayanne was apologizing to Tallulah so much. Not because he did anything wrong, but because for weeks he had no idea if she was safe or in danger, alive or dead, and he had no way of knowing if his decision to take all of his siblings and flee that night had been the right call or not. For all he knew during those weeks of Purgatory, Tallulah could have been dead and it would have been all his fault.

This poor kid probably had no idea what to do with himself, and I guarantee it was Leo’s presence that kept him from going crazy with worry and anxiety. He had to focus on making sure Leo was safe, therefor he couldn’t afford to worry himself sick over Tallulah.

Protecting others is and was what defined Chayanne for so long. His very identity became tied solely to what he can do and provide for his siblings, and specifically that he can protect and take care of Tallulah when the adults aren’t there (and even when they are in most cases). But now that Tallulah is taking that step away, that step into independence and towards functioning herself as a separate entity to him, he’s been thrown for a loop.

Without her there, he isn’t sure what space to take up himself, and hell I don’t think he even really knows how to define himself if it isn’t as the protector of his sister. Even on today’s stream, when Tallulah decided to sleep alone in her house again, Chayanne spent a few minutes in the basement unsure of where he should even sleep that night, like where she slept was what was guiding him. Without her, he’s vulnerable and he feels that vulnerability so deeply that it completely turns his world upside down. So he reaches out to his dad to guide him instead, to tell him that he made the right decision getting all of his siblings out of there, to invite him to sleep next to him for the night, to tell him that things will work out and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

I love these two siblings dearly, but I do really hope that the admins continue writing their characters growing independently from each other. Not only because I think it’s good for their characters, but because I also think it’s good for some internal conflict.

[sallysellsseashellssundays]

Finally got back to rewatching Torchwood, tbh I’ve been putting if off for months now b/c “Small worlds” and “Countrycide” freaked me out so much when I first watched them 😭 I’m really having to mentally prepare myself here lol

“Small Worlds” is so scary (to me), those things are terrifying especially when they kill with the petals, but it’s probably one of the best s1 episodes imo. EXTREMELY well done in terms of what they’re up against plus developing the Gwen and Jack relationship/friendship/whatever you want haha and it gives us a lil sneak peek at Jack’s past

The first time I watched I felt emotional when Estelle died and even though it was still very sad this time around I actually ended up crying a lot on behalf of the mom

I’m not exactly sure why but I’d misremembered both the mom and Roy as being awful and I’d thought I’d be happy at Jas being able to go with the creatures 

but upon rewatching it I really got the sense that the mom actually didn’t have a single clue as to how cruelly Roy treated her daughter. And yes she struggles to understand Jas but she does still make the effort to connect with her and shows her affection. I do believe by that point in time the creatures had been communicating with Jas for long enough that Lynn would never really “have” her daughter back even if the creatures allowed it so imo Jack made the right decision, but it still hit me really hard emotionally to watch her crying and yelling at the end

I got the impression that Roy duped Lynn completely, it was terrifying how he tried to distract her when she asked where Jas was and how he hid the bite mark, but she only seemed to see the loving man he pretended to be so for Lynn to lose both Roy and Jas in one day was deeply sad

Also, I feel like I completely understand why the team was upset with Jack. As viewers we see how many awful situations Jas was in and how the creatures were genuinely protecting her, but the team didn’t know that. Jack also had first hand experience from before as to what the creatures were capable of and how there was nothing else he could do but again the team didn’t know that especially Tosh and Owen. From their point of view it did look vastly different, and Gwen is a very empathetic person who still isn’t as broken as Jack is so of course she’d be upset too

If I had to start a ranking I’d say:

1.) Small worlds and ghost machine

2.) Cyberwoman

3.) Everything changes

4.) Day One

[sketchy-the-changeling]

Do you enjoy being miserable? I’ve been hearing a lot about how many people apparently find misery to be comfortable lately, but how anybody could come to that conclusion is just completely baffling to me personally. So I just figured that I’d ask around about it, to see if I’m in the minority with how that I find misery VERY uncomfortable to say the least, and certainly don’t take any type of comfort from being miserable at all.

I think you may be thinking of the adage "Misery is comfortable; it's why so many people prefer it. Happiness takes effort."

It's not that these people ENJOY being miserable, per-se. That's why the adage uses the word "prefer". Preference and Enjoyment are two different things. They don't enjoy the misery. They're complacent in it. They know it's going to take effort to be happy, and many people don't want to put in that effort, whether it's because they find said effort to be too much work, or because the brief, fleeting relief they get from venting to/trauma dumping on the people around them (even if they didn't consent) is too intoxicating to let go, or whatever else.

So everything I wrote so far probably answers the question you asked at the very beginning, but to be clear: No, I do not enjoy being miserable, and as I've gotten older, my patience for people that wallow in misery has gotten thinner and thinner. It's why I'm of the opinion that having venting channels in Discord servers is an astronomically god-awful idea.

Obviously, if someone is miserable due to factors beyond their control, like systemic poverty, homelessness, mental illness, etc etc, that's completely different. I'm talking about people for whom there are actionable solutions to their problems, but they refuse to take them.

I'll give a personal example below, but it's rather lengthy, and the original question has already been answered, so I'll just put a break here and HOPE that Tumblr doesn't fuck it up.

Example: I'm in a Discord server run by an artist mutual of mine. Said server happens to have a venting channel, so you already know where this is going. One member of the server was an aspiring writer, and would often go to the venting channel to express frustrations with how he can't make progress on any story he writes.

It didn't matter what ANYONE said. So many of us offered solutions to the various roadblocks he was having, and none of them worked. It wasn't because he attempted our advice and failed, but rather he just preferred to complain about the problem he was having rather than actually doing anything to fix it. It was the equivalent of someone sinking in quicksand, and just folding their arms rather than grabbing the dozen or so ropes that people are offering to them.

Once I recognized this was a pattern, I spoke to the server owner privately and said that this needed to be dealt with, because he was becoming a nuisance to other server members and he was just gonna keep doing it if there were no consequences. She didn't do anything, and the guy kept going, and more and more people just stopped bothering to try helping him, but then this behavior spilled out into other channels, and several of us, myself included, went to the sever owner privately about this. Again. Several Times. After dragging her feet on it for months, she finally started allowing mods to time him out when he acted like this, and when that proved to not be enough for him to stop, the server owner FINALLY made the decision to boot him.

Mind you, my stance on people that act like this was already solidified beforehand. This situation just reinforced that stance.

Protect your peace, y'all.

[icouldntfindquiet]

I’m too lazy to address everything so here’s the short version

I can’t abuse mod power. I’m being held accountable as a mod by the other mods 😂 I’m not lord of the catfish sub

Part of respect is acknowledging that Van deserves his own space! If someone was trying to take photos of you everywhere you went, you would be uncomfortable at one point. Yes he’s famous so it seems fair game to catch him out in the public but try to empathize with his sense of security. Everyone deserves that. Protect our handsome pale boy-man!!

A no BS rundown isn’t as easy as it seems. I’ve been trying to explain slowly what’s going on and nobody seems to believe it other than the mods and like 4 people on Reddit so there’s that. I also can’t talk about certain things. I’m actively trying not to cause problems out here. Also just want to point out that I’m not teasing whatsoever. I keep seeing cryptic asks on different blogs and that’s not me. I’ll always out myself wherever I am!

I’ve had my moments on Reddit. Warranted responses imo but to each their own. I wouldn’t consider them bad responses but defensive with purpose. I try to be kind but demands and insults don’t really warrant kindness in my book! Trying to be nicer though. Think all the harassment might’ve made me a tense.

Have a fun and safe time on your trip!!!

Sorry for the long response. 🙈

No worries! I know I wrote a lot and went off topic. 😂 And yes, that’s what I figured and why I didn’t think it was a big deal as nothing will really change.

People have different takes on the privacy/photo thing and I’m not going to tell people what they should and shouldn’t do. I just think the decision/choice is up to the individual and what feels right to them and no one should make someone feel bad for what they chose to do. Right now, no discussion of his location is allowed and people are not allowed to post photos of Van. I find that unnecessarily strict but people misinterpret my view as being insensitive of his privacy. I want to make it clear that I don’t agree with stalking or immoral means of getting it. I just think people should be able to decide for themselves what feels right, but with the way things are, that right has been taken away and heavily looks down on one side. But I realize not everyone shares my view and that’s okay.

No worries! We can all agree that CATB isn’t completely over. We don’t disagree with you on that due to the company not being dissolved yet and Sardy’s posts. We just prefer info from more solid sources for the timeline of when they’ll come back. (But I realize you’re probably referring to the people who are adamant the band is done.)

Yeah, I’ve seen people being nasty to you so I don’t blame you for being short with them. I do see you making an effort and appreciate it! Hopefully people stop being rude to you because everyone deserves to be treated with respect and I’m sorry you have to go through that. And thank you! x

[maya-in-japan]

June 7-Mt. Takao

 Today we hiked Mt. Takao! I was actually excited about this activity because I’ve never been hiking before and I like exploring nature parks and other areas like that. That attitude changed about halfway up the mountain. I didn’t expect that we would have go up as many stairs as we did that day, I was almost over halfway through because I was tired of going up flights of stairs. At least I wore hiking attire that day so I wasn’t too hot or uncomfortable. The first hour or so was really nice though. I got to go on a chair lift for the first time, which wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I’m scared of heights but I still wanted to go on it just to say that I experienced riding a chair lift. The ride was slow and peaceful, so I enjoyed that a lot. I was also able to get my stamp book and first stamp on the mountain! Now I can finally start my stamp collection! I thought the various shrines visited on the way to the top were nice and a good break from climbing the mountain. The view at the top of Mt. Takao was amazing! The view made all the climbing we did worth the effort. Even though it was cloudy, I could still Mt. Fuji a little bit, which was cool. I hope to climb part of it one day even though it’ll most likely be more tiring than Mt. Takao. In my opinion, the climb down was a lot worse than climbing up. The first half of the way down was quite nice, especially once we got to the suspension bridge. However, I regret not taking the chair lift down the second half. I hated walking/running down all the steep hills on the first trail! My legs hurt so bad, I feel like I’ve never regretted anything more on this trip than my decision to keep walking down the hill rather than getting a chair lift down. I ended up passing out as soon as I got back to the hotel that day. Despite my regrets on the mountain, I actually loved hiking the mountain and would do it again once I fully prepare myself 😂.

     The reading didn’t betray any of my thoughts about my experience at Mt. Takao. I understand that the way Japan is now is due to many years of regenerative farming techniques. Would the forests at Mt. Takao be considered “protection forests” due to the shrines present? It would make sense if it did due to the surrounding woods functioning as protection from wildfires and other possible incidents. 

     The reading also made me curious about current farming techniques with the current situation of global warming. I wonder if Japan is altering its regenerative farming technique to plant more trees or plants that absorb more carbon dioxide to combat the levels of greenhouse gases that Japan emits. I also wonder if other countries have looked into this technique to help combat their carbon dioxide production levels. Although it is a small step toward taking care of rising global temperatures, if bigger corporations undertook this technique it might help since they have immense levels of carbon dioxide emission from factories. I enjoyed reading about how Japan was able to replenish its forestland over the years by implementing new and more effective techniques that took care of its needs without sacrificing all of its land.

[x-rambles]

02.17.2023

Gratitude: 1. You acted on your faith in yourself & the Lord 2. The people in your life put in effort towards their place in your life. 3. A new day, means there’s another choice. **You enjoyed your healthy snacks at home

Girl, you put yourself on the hook for $8k. And interestingly, I’m not sure that you’re afraid of making that choice. It seems this choice is simply requiring you become more of the person you want to be. Are you afraid of how to articulate this choice to people? Yes. AND--you do not have to. You do not have to tell anyone. The MOST would be telling the agents involved in your home purchasing process, that you’re enrolled in a 6 month educational program you’re funding.... AND--you’ll need to work even more clearly on the discipline regarding eating out. But truly, I do not believe it’s a negative thing to say no more. No to the trips. No to eating out. A lot of which causes you anxiety anyway. This is very important practice for yourself..you WILL be saying no more. 

It’s wonderful to eat healthier, and at home! It’s great to be more disciplined with your time & schedule to stay home. There may be more to learn and review, but--you do not owe other people YES that you regret. You do not have to feel obligated. It’s time to research a bit more about good excuses to make. Because frankly, saying yes, and living in anxiety isn’t the most fulfilling. It’s paramount for you to begin feeling safer within yourself. You do not have to recreate patterns of your past, patterns of feeling anxiety, feeling you have to protect yourself, be dishonest, etc. 

It’s so important to explore these things, because these patterns are unfortunately coming up super often. These consistent feelings have been taking a toll. I know I’m not crazy for feeling that I have to constantly protect myself. It’s true that I’ve been judged...it’s true that it’s been demanded for me to explain myself. And from the bottom of my heart I do not....DO NOT mean to harm anyone else. I most likely had reservations from the beginning. It’s important for me to empower myself by standing strong within my reservations, and my thoughts. If I do not want something, to not convince myself into it. 

My energy must shift, immediately. I made this leap today, because I strongly believe in myself. I know that marriage, and family is in my future. It’s important for me to prepare for this. I also know that abundance is in my future. All of these things, the solutions to my fears (more money, feeling empowered) are in my future--I know that. It’s been promised to me by God. It’s part of my journey, and purpose on this Earth. The largest fears come from the greatest things. In order to have what you’ve never had, you must do what you’ve never done.  I’ve begun to dive head first, and changes are coming...

There is so much work to be done--how to say no to request’s you don’t want to fulfill. How to view myself from an empowered light (instead of doubting or criticizing my decisions, myself, actions) I am happy to identify these things..in some ways my decisions are resulting in life providing these shifts, and the work continues.. XoXo, C.

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Soul-stealer Part 2 (Final Part)

The aftermath; Arthur and the Gang fret, and Merlin wakes up to find that a lot has changed in a few short days.

Part 1

Unsurprisingly to Arthur and Lancelot, the moment they open the door, they are met by a gaggle of scared and desperate looking knights, all babbling at once and demanding answers.

Gwen had also joined them at some point. Whether someone sent for her, or she just happened to be awake, the two men don’t know, but don’t really care enough to ask.

Arthur just rubs his eyes tiredly, shutting the door behind him. Lancelot notices the King’s exhaustion and worry, and subtly steps in front of him, happy to deal with the talking for now.

He gives the others a placating smile and holds his hands out, gesturing at them to be quiet:

“He’ll be fine, he’s just exhausted. Gaius says he probably won’t wake up for a few days. We’ll post some guards right outside the door, and he’ll send for us if anything changes, for now, we should all get some rest; we still have to report to the council in the morning, no matter how worried we are.”

Percival and Elyan give shaky smiles, but trust Lancelot’s words, and traipse off in the direction of the knights’ quarters. Leon nods, but looks to Arthur worriedly, and steps around Lancelot to put a hand on his shoulder. Arthur looks up at him in surprise, but pats the hand on his shoulder and gives the First Knight a reassuring, though weak, smile. Leon returns it, and with that, he follows the others down the corridor, heading to his own chambers.

Once he turns the corner, Arthur’s gaze drops to the floor again, and he leans against the wall behind him, clenching his hands tightly in an effort to stop the shaking.

Gwaine and Gwen are a little more reluctant to leave.

Lancelot was well aware that Gwen knew about Merlin’s magic (not that anyone else knew that, least of all Merlin), and he sends a loving smile to her in comfort. She weakly responds with a smile of her own, before nodding her head slightly at Gwaine.

Lance’s smile drops as he looks to the other knight, the man in question being the most serious and withdrawn either of them have ever seen him before:

“Gaius promises that he’ll be fine. We can’t help him if we’re exhausted, Gwaine, we need to get some sleep.”

Gwaine lets out a long breath, gulping before seeming to sag slightly, looking to the floor as he mumbles an agreement. He allows Gwen to squeeze his hand briefly, before he gives the two of them a tight smile, and walks stiffly the way Leon, Elyan, and Percival had gone (after sending an out-of-character concerned glance Arthur’s way. The King doesn’t notice).

Gwen sighs and gives Lancelot a fond, reassuring smile. He raises an eyebrow at first, but then nods in understanding, glancing back at Arthur before walking tiredly towards his and Gwen’s shared chambers.

The woman waits until the knight has turned the corner, before finally turning around to face The King. He looks up at her, his face tense and eyes teary, and she sighs, before pulling him into a hug.

He tenses at first, but she squeezes tighter, and begins running a hand through his hair softly, ignoring the sharp pain of his armour digging into her skin. Arthur finally relaxes, accepting the comfort of a friend, and hugs her back, burying his face in her hair and trying desperately to stop himself from crying.

Gwen lets out a deep breath, and mumbles comfortingly in The King’s ear:

“You have to trust Gaius, Arthur. Merlin will be fine.”

Arthur tightens his hold on her, thumping his head against her shoulder softly in frustration, before saying:

“I know, that... that’s not the point, I... I’ve been so wrong. How could I have been so wrong for so many years? How could I let Merlin be so scared?”

Gwen bites her lip, taking a few moments to respond, not once loosening her hold on her friend:

“You couldn’t have known, Arthur. Everything he does, he does to protect us, you.”

Arthur finally pulls away and slumps against the wall, tightly wrapping his arms around his middle in a display of vulnerability that Gwen has never seen before, but will never mention to anyone.

She steps back, understanding implicitly that what Arthur needs now is a comforting presence and a listening ear.

The King stays silent for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, before he roughly shakes his head and huffs, looking up at Gwen:

“I know that. I think I’ve always known that. But what else don’t I know? What other lies did my father ingrain into my head? How many innocents have I killed, how many people are scared of me, because I allowed myself to be fooled by my father’s apparently misplaced hatred?-”

Tears finally overflow and his voice cracks as he continues:

“-He was so scared, Gwen. When we got him back in one piece, he... it didn’t matter what we had said to him earlier, he was so scared. How did I let that happen? It... It’s Merlin, how did I not notice that Merlin was so constantly afraid?”

Gwen leans against the opposite wall, gripping the front of her dress tightly to stop herself from fidgeting. She lets out a deep sigh, glancing briefly to the floor before meeting Arthur’s gaze once more, tears in her eyes:

“We all missed it, Arthur. Merlin is... a master at deception, lying, hiding his pain. I catch glimpses of it sometimes, I think we all do. A bruise here, an odd excuse there, the occasional mournful look on his face when he thinks none of us are looking. But Merlin has always been there, for all of us. He’s just this... constant, reassuring presence, ready to help or comfort at a moment’s notice. We all rely on him so heavily, I don’t think we even notice sometimes; none of us wanted to see the cracks, none of us wanted to see how sad, or scared, or angry, he was. So we didn’t. We all failed him, Arthur, but now? Now, we’re all going to make it right.”

She finishes with a firm nod, her voice stronger with her decisive last sentence. Arthur gives a resigned sigh, still looking doubtful, but before he can respond a look of realisation crosses Gwen’s face, and she tilts her head, speaking softly:

“You love him, don’t you?”

Arthur tenses his jaw slightly, almost denying it with a scoff, but instead, he sags once more and rubs his eyes harshly with the palms of his hands before looking up at her:

“Yeah, I... I think I do, I think I have for a while. And I didn’t even notice until he looked me in the face, and all I could see was how scared he was. Of me. Of what I... what he thought I would do to him. He’s the kindest, least evil person I’ve ever met, and I’m the one that made him that afraid. What does that say about me, Guinevere?”

Gwen just sighs. She knows Arthur is a good person, but there is also no denying that he was wrong in his persecution of magic, and how do you comfort a man who has just realised the atrocities he has unknowingly supported? Committed himself?

She steps towards him again, taking his hand and pulling him from the wall, settling a soft kiss to his cheek:

“Come on, Arthur. Lets get you to bed. Lance is right, you’ll still need to speak to the council in a few hours and you can’t do that whilst you’re dead on your feet.”

Arthur gulps, and sends one last worried, longing glance to the door behind him, Gwen just chuckles fondly:

“I’ll wake you up slightly early so you can check in on him before the meeting starts, how about that?”

The King finally sends her a smile that looks, though weak, genuine, and nods his head. With that, Gwen leads her friend to his chambers, quietly turning down his bed and getting a fire going as he retreats behind the changing screen.

She works slowly, dallying around the room. It goes unspoken, but both of them know that she won’t leave until Arthur is settled in bed, and she’s certain he will stay there once she goes. He finally crawls under the covers, and his exhaustion shows clearly; his head hits the pillow and Gwen barely has time to sweep the hair away from his eyes before he’s spark out, sleeping fitfully.

She sends one last concerned look towards her friend, before stifling a yawn and leaving the chambers, softly shutting the door behind her and eagerly heading to collapse in her husband’s arms

~

Gaius was, of course, correct in his assessment that Merlin wouldn’t wake up for a few days.

That didn’t stop Arthur from checking in multiple times a day, someone else in the Gang usually joining him.

Unfortunately, Arthur’s sudden announcement to the council that he fully intended to legalise magic, whether they wanted him to or not, meant he was stuck in meetings all day when Merlin did finally awake.

Gwen and Elyan were sat at his bedside when he opened his eyes. He’d been moved to the bed in his own room, once Gaius assured everyone that he was in no danger; said Physician was bustling around in the next room, busy as always, trusting that Gwen and Elyan would fetch him if Merlin’s condition changed.

Gwen felt the twitch in her hands and looked from her brother to Merlin’s face in concern, to see his eyelashes fluttering, before finally opening blearily.

She gasps, and squeezes Merlin’s hand tighter as she glances up at Elyan, quickly telling him to go fetch Gaius, and to send the guards to find the others.

The Knight runs a calloused but soft hand over Merlin’s forehead before rushing out of the room. Gwen doesn’t pay attention to the hushed words being exchanged on the other side of the door, not even looking up when Gaius bursts in, various potions in his hands.

Merlin groans quietly; Gwen lifts her other hand to cup his cheek and leans over him, smiling.

Gaius takes the chair Elyan had been in as the knight walks back in, nodding at Gwen’s questioning gaze. Merlin groans again, waving his other hand around aimlessly, seeming to relax when Gaius takes it in his own.

Gwen chuckles at him slightly, and Merlin’s confused, tired eyes find her as she softly speaks:

“Welcome back Merlin, you had us all worried. Arthur is in a meeting right now, but he’ll be here soon, I’m sure. He and the knights have been fretting endlessly.”

Merlin’s eyes close again as he smiles slightly, but they open wide a second later, a panicked look on his face. Elyan, from his spot stood behind his sister, leans over, putting a soft but forceful hand on his shoulder as he tries to sit up, and speaks quickly:

“It’s alright, Merlin. We meant what we said, you’re perfectly safe. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve got a lot of questions-”

Gwen looks back at him disapprovingly, and swats his leg with her hand:

“-but we’re just glad you’re ok. Get better, you can tell us all about your secret heroics later, alright?”

Merlin relaxes, lifting a shaking hand to pat Elyan’s own softly, nodding and giving him a weak but grateful smile.

Elyan returns it, before quietly telling Gaius that he’ll wait for the others in the main room, and silently walking out the door. Merlin, now with a little more energy, coughs slightly before mumbling:

“How long was I out?”

The two of them help him into a sitting position, Gwen quickly taking his hand again as Gaius uncorks the first of three potions, and answers:

“Your soul was... ah, reassembled in the evening of Monday. It’s now Thursday afternoon of the same week. Drink this.”

Merlin takes one whiff of the potion after nodding, and grimaces as he tries to push Gaius’ hand away. The Physician just raises a challenging eyebrow, and Gwen tuts; Merlin rolls his eyes in response, taking the potion with a huff and gulping it down in one, a disgusted look on his face.

He takes the other two in quick succession, knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse; Gaius’ Eyebrow of Doom, he could just about manage to resist, but Gwen’s disapproving and worried gaze could never be endured for long.

He was rewarded with a goblet of water and a pat on the back from Gaius, and another friendly smile and squeeze of the hand from Gwen.

The servant opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, he tensed up, tightening his hold on her hand as his now worried gaze moved to the door.

Gwen frowns at him, stroking his hand gently as she says:

“Merlin? What’s wrong?”

Merlin just gulps, glancing at Gaius quickly before looking to Gwen, and then back at the door:

“He’s coming, I can feel it. Arthur.”

Gwen relaxes again, back to smiling as she shakes her head softly:

“You have nothing to worry about, Merlin. He’s spent the last three days on a warpath against the council, trying to repeal the ban on magic. That is, of course, between bouts of panicking about whether you were going to be ok. Really Merlin, you should’ve seen him when the knights got you back here, he was so scared for you.”

Merlin looks at her doubtfully, and squeezes her hand as they hear the door to the Physician’s chambers bang open:

“You’re sure he’s not angry?”

His quiet, scared tone of voice brings tears to Gwen’s eyes; if she knew how frightened he was, she would have told him that she knew about his magic years ago. She gives him the strongest smile she can manage and nods firmly as she strokes his cheek softly with her free hand:

“I promise.”

Merlin bites his lip nervously, but returns her nod and looks to the door expectantly. Gaius strokes a hand through his hair before going to the door at the sound of muffled, desperate voices on the other side.

The Physician opens the door just as Arthur reaches it, Leon and Lancelot a hair’s breadth behind him, presumably having come from the same meeting. Gaius raises an amused, though fond, eyebrow, before wordlessly standing aside and allowing the three men to rush into the room (Elyan waiting in the other room for Gwaine and Percival to be fetched from training).

Despite Merlin’s internal insistence that he wouldn’t cry, tears fill his eyes at the sight of his friends looking so worried. Arthur exclaims his name, his tone an odd mix of relief at seeing him awake and concern at his well-being.

The King rushes forward, and Merlin barely has time to gasp before he’s being wrapped in a tight. Gwen lets go of his hand, sitting back in her chair as Lancelot stands behind her, a fond smile on his face as he gently rubs her shoulders. Leon visibly relaxes at the sight of Merlin hesitatingly returning Arthur’s hug, though Gaius tuts, unhappy with the way his patient was being jostled around so much.

The longer the hug goes on, the tighter Merlin grips Arthur’s tunic, and the closer to spilling his tears he gets. He had been so worried, so scared, but Gwen was right: everyone really had been fretting.

Arthur finally pulls back, but before he can say anything Gwaine bursts into the room, closely followed by an equally worried looking Percival, and a fondly smirking Elyan.

Gwaine pushes in front of Arthur (who huffs indignantly before moving back) and wraps Merlin in a tight hug of his own, holding the servant’s head close to his chest, and murmuring:

“Bloody hell Merlin. Took you long enough, we were all starting to freak out a bit.-”

He leans back, but perches on the edge of the bed and keeps his hands on Merlin’s shoulders:

“-Though to be fair, Princess here has been freaking the whole time.”

Arthur huffs again, louder this time, and Merlin throws a glance his way. Before he can say anything, Gwaine is roughly shoved to the floor (with a very undignified yelp) by Leon, who says-

“My turn.”

- as he pulls Merlin into a brief hug, before sitting back and patting him on the shoulder a few times with a soft smile on his face:

“Glad to have you back, my friend, we’ve missed you.”

The servant returns his smile, and Leon gives him a nod, standing and moving back only to be replaced by Percival.

The biggest of the knights doesn’t fit on the edge of the bed, at least not without slipping off or crushing Merlin’s legs, so he settles for leaning over and pulling him up into a tight hug. Gaius tuts again, but no one pays him any mind; if they were actually hurting Merlin or causing any damage, he would say so.

He finally drops Merlin with a mischievous grin, and ruffles his hair before moving back. Lancelot leans over Gwen to squeeze his best friend’s shoulder; the grin on his face mirroring Merlin’s teary one. The knight leans back again and Arthur pushes himself to the front of the crowd once more, reminding everyone just how much of a tight fit it was to have six bulky knights, and two others, in a room where a tiny single bed took up most of the space (The King made a mental note to have Merlin, as the soon-to-be-appointed Court Sorcerer, moved to bigger chambers, and to give Gaius a bigger bed).

Merlin’s smile drops a little, but Arthur lets out a deep breath and perches on the edge of the bed, taking Merlin’s hand in his own with only a slight blush.

He gulps, and if he’d payed any attention he would have noticed almost everyone else in the room rolling their eyes as he opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say.

Merlin, having finally convinced himself that he was safe, at least for now, simply raises an eyebrow at him, and Arthur can hear Gwaine snorting behind him, breaking him out of his speechless stupor:

“It’s good to have you back, Merls. The council are being predictably difficult and I miss your sarky comments in my ear.”

Leon purses his lips and nods in agreement, obviously getting just as frustrated with the slow pace the council was moving at as Arthur was. Lancelot just smirks and rolls his eyes at their dramatics.

Merlin’s smile grows again, and he quirks an eyebrow:

“Aww. You missed me, Sire?”

Arthur just lets out a short laugh and shakes his head, before looking back up at Merlin softly, and gulping:

“More than you know.”

Gwen stands abruptly, taking Lancelot’s hand, and gesturing to the door pointedly:

“I think that’s our cue to go. Lancelot, Leon, why don’t you catch the rest of us up on how the meeting was going?”

Leon nods knowingly, giving Arthur a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room, closely followed by Elyan. Gwaine smirks, and opens his mouth to say something presumably vulgar, but Percival huffs and clamps a hand over his mouth before pushing him out of the door. The two of them are followed by a laughing Lancelot and Gwen. Gaius looks to Arthur with an unreadably expression on his face, before saying in a deadpan tone:

“Not too much... ah, activity, he’s still weak and needs rest. The walls in these chambers are also not all that soundproof so... be mindful of that.”

The Physician ignores Arthur’s surprised blinking and Merlin’s deep blush, getting to the door just in time to stop Gwaine (who’d poked his head through to say something, again, presumably vulgar) with a hand on his face and a quick shove.

Arthur and Merlin chuckle slightly at the sound of Gwaine falling backwards down the steps with a high-pitched squeal, but quieten, looking to their laps awkwardly as the door shuts behind Gaius.

Merlin’s hand is still clutched tightly in Arthur’s, but he doesn’t pull away, looking up with a gulp, the worried expression back on his face. Arthur meets his gaze, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows worriedly.

“Merlin, I-”

“I’m so sorr-”

They both try to break the silence at the same time, but where Merlin chuckles slightly, Arthur frowns, having heard what Merlin was trying to say. He squeezes his hand tighter, and speaks forcefully:

“Don’t you dare apologise Merlin. I’m the one that should be sorry.-”

Merlin frowns, sitting up straighter and opening his mouth to retort, but Arthur shakes his head roughly:

“-No, Merlin. I should be, and I am. I am so sorry that you had to live in fear, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, but no more. I’m fixing it I promise. I’m repealing the ban, and you don’t have to scared anymore, none of your people do, I swear it, in the name of Camelot.”

The tears finally overflow from Merlin’s eyes and he throws himself forward, clutching Arthur tightly and silently crying into his shoulder. Arthur returns the hug without hesitation, running a soft hand up and down the other man’s back and whispering apologies and reassurances in his ear.

Merlin pulls back after what feels like hours, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and smiling slightly when Arthur takes his hand again. His face falls into a frown once more, and he looks up to The King nervously:

“Still. Perhaps if I’d told you earlier, all of this could have been avoided. I shouldn’t have lied for so long, I shouldn’t have been such a cowa-”

Arthur interrupts him:

“No, Merlin. You should never feel bad for protecting yourself in a Kingdom that should, by law, see you burn just for existing. It is not your responsibility to put your life on the line just to help a grown man reach a moral conclusion that he really should’ve been able to reach himself.”

Merlin sighs, but nods at Arthur’s imploring face. He relaxes back against the wall and Arthur smiles softly, lifting a hand to stroke the side of his face. Both of them blush slightly, but neither pull away as Arthur quietly speaks:

“We’ve got a lot to talk about Merls, but you should get some rest, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Merlin nods, eyes blinking blearily as he yawns, just now realising how tired he is. He shuffles down in the bed so his head rests on the pillow again, but doesn’t let go of Arthur’s hand, even as he stands up to move to Gwen’s chair. Merlin tugs his hand slightly towards him, shuffling over in the bed:

“Will you stay?”

Arthur looks down at him, a soft smile on his face as he nods. He lets go of Merlin’s hand, but only so he can climb under the covers, settling with his back against the wall. Merlin rolls between the King’s legs, laying with his head on Arthur’s stomach as he sighs contentedly, one hand hanging off the edge of the bed, and the other back to being held by Arthur.

Arthur smiles down at him, running his free hand through the man’s hair as he softly speaks, so quiet, Merlin almost misses it:

“Always. It’s good to have you back in one piece, Merlin.”

~

THE END!!!

I hope y’all liked it, I really enjoyed writing such an alternate magic-reveal, so thanks anon for the idea!!

Head over to This List to let me know what y’all want next!!

[drabbles-mc]

Breaking In

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @garbinge​: So I did some prompt searching today and found this and thought about maybe a little best friends to lovers trope with Bishop: “look, i know that we rarely agree on things, and i know that you're not happy about how i choose to do things, but you're here, and i love you for it.” anddddd “are you gonna pull the trigger?”

Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending), Bishop being the stubborn man that he is

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I haven’t shown Bishop some love in a while and I really liked these prompts for him. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

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It had been a few days since you and Bishop spoke. The two of you had gotten into a minor blowout. You guys argued on a fairly regular basis, but it was always coming from a well-intentioned place on both ends. You were protective of each other and with the life that he lived, it was stressful to care so much. He wanted to keep you as far away from club business as possible, and you wanted the exact opposite—you couldn’t protect him or yourself if you didn’t know what you were going up against.

When you had called Bishop that day and asked if he was free to grab a drink, just wanting to see and talk to him after the long week that you’d had, he told you not to come by the clubhouse. He let you know that the club had pissed some people off and the clubhouse was a bit of a hot-spot. The information was meant to deter you, but if anything it made you speed over there as quickly as possible to make sure that everyone was alright.

When Bishop heard your car pull onto the lot, he made his way over to it, not even allowing you the chance to make it to the steps of the clubhouse. He tried to get you back into your car, telling you that sometimes you need to just fucking listen to him when he tells you to do things. You weren’t a person who took kindly to being bossed around, not even by Bishop, so things got out of hand pretty quickly after that. And it had been radio silence since.

You were getting out of the shower, ready to pull on your pajamas and climb into bed when you heard your phone buzzing on your bed. You hated that you were hoping to see Bishop’s name on the screen. It wasn’t, though. With a sigh you picked it up and answered.

“Hey, Angel, what’s up?”

“Hey. You with Bish?”

You scoffed, “No, why?”

There was a slight hint of amusement in his voice, “Damn. Alright. Didn’t realize that was a tense question,” he paused, “He left a few hours ago pretty pissed off. Stormed out of his meeting with Taza and Hank. We just…um…know that you two kinda…”

“Kinda what?”

“Don’t get defensive,” he laughed, “He just. You know. He talks to you. Figured you should be the first person to call since he isn’t picking up his fucking phone.”

You sighed, “I haven’t seen him.”

“Alright. If you do—”

“I’ll let you know.”

He tried and failed to bite back a chuckle, “Thanks. Take care of him, yea?”

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you, “That’s all I’m ever trying to do these days.”

“We love you, y’know.”

“I know,” you laughed, “Bye, Angel.”

“Later, Y/N.”

You tossed the phone back onto your bed as you weighed out your options. It wasn’t like Bishop to blow off the club like that. You had no idea what was going on—he made sure of that the past few weeks, but it must’ve been something rough to make him storm out and shut his phone off. As much as you wanted to keep giving him the cold shoulder, your heart wouldn’t let you.

So that was how you ended up parking in his driveway that night. His bike was in the driveway and even though the house was dark, you knew that he was home and that he was more than likely still very much awake. He was never able to sleep when he was angry, which was half the reason the man was so exhausted all the time.

You were digging around in your purse as you made your way up the driveway. Eons ago Bishop had given you a spare key to his place in case of emergencies. You never really needed it. Whenever you were going to his place it was always because you were invited, so the door was always unlocked. He wasn’t expecting company now though, especially not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you slid the key into the lock. You were rewarded with the clicking sound of the lock opening. Part of you expected him to have changed the locks since he gave you the key so long ago. You were glad that he didn’t because the prospect of trying to open and crawl through a window wasn’t an inviting one. And you knew that if you knocked on the door and tried to get him to let you in, he would just ignore you. You knew because you would do the same thing to him if the roles were reversed.

The door always took some extra effort to push open. Bishop was more than handy and you never understood why he didn’t just fix it. Whatever the reason, you found yourself shouldering the door rather hard to gain entrance to the house. You stumbled in, bracing yourself against the door to keep from falling to the floor when it finally gave way.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath as you straightened yourself out and pushed the door shut, locking it again. As you were going to pull your shoes off, you heard the unmistakable click of a gun. The house was dark and you knew that he probably had no idea that it was you. You chuckled, “Are you gonna pull the trigger?”

You heard him huff as he reached and turned a light on, “What the fuck, Y/N? You’re gonna get yourself shot breaking into places like that.”

You waved the key around, “Not breaking in if I have a fucking key.”

He put the safety back on and set his gun to the side. Exhaustion and frustration was present in every inch of his face. Part of you wanted to hug him, and part of you wanted to smack him because you still weren’t done being mad at him for being an ass to you.

“Why are you here?” he didn’t sound overly annoyed, just tired.

“The guys called me—they’re worried about you,” you walked closer to him, “Figured I should stop by and make sure you didn’t go off on a bender.”

He held his arms out, as if inviting you to inspect him, “Satisfied?”

As much as you wanted to keep being mad, your brain was telling you to reach out to hug him, to caress his face and make the worry lines fade away. You didn’t, though—you couldn’t. Instead, you shrugged, “For now. I’m not leaving, though.”

“Oh?”

“You can’t kick me out of the clubhouse and your house, Obispo,” you walked over and plopped down on the couch.

He sighed, “We’re still arguing about that?”

“We can be done arguing about it if you admit that I’m right.”

He sat down on the couch next to you, “You can’t admit that I had a little bit of a right to be mad?” he shook his head, “I asked you to do one thing and you just—”

“What about me made you think that I would just leave you guys alone if things were getting rough?” you didn’t let him finish his sentence, “I’m willing to break into your fucking house to make sure you’re alright. You think that I wouldn’t make the drive over to the clubhouse to make sure you’re safe?”

“So you do admit it’s breaking and entering?” there was a hint of a smile on his face, and you hated that it made your heart feel a little fuller.

You rolled your eyes, “Not the fucking point.”

His expression sobered, “I know. But you…you do get why I don’t want you involved in all that shit, right?”

“Not really.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to choose his next words carefully, “I’m not going to be the reason you get fucking shot. If you got hurt because my club got into shit with the wrong people I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

“You aren’t responsible for what I do. I make my own fucking decisions. You don’t get to ice me out because you get nervous. You’re my best friend and you don’t get to just decide that I—”

“I can’t do this without you!” he snapped, shaking his head. He took a deep breath, making a conscious effort to quiet his voice, “I can’t lose you. You can get mad at me all you want over that. If you ignoring me for a few days, a week, keeps you alive then by all means fucking do it. If something ever…I can’t…” he couldn’t get his words in order.

You felt your attitude melting away as you watched him fumble to put his feelings into words. You reached out and rested your hand on his arm, “Bish, hey, come on now,” you smiled, “I’m tough. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Yes, I do,” despite your attempt to lighten the mood you could still see the heaviness in his eyes, “I’ve watched a million things fall apart in my hands. You can’t be another thing that gets added to that list. And if that means you’re going to hate me from time to time then I’m willing to live with that.”

“I’ve never hated you,” you said with a shake of your head.

He waited for your eyes to meet his, “Look, I know we rarely agree on things. And I know you’re not happy about how I choose to do things,” he covered your hand with his own, “but you’re here, and I love you for it.”

Your eyes widened at his statement, “Wh-what?”

He gave your hand a squeeze, “I love you.”

“Even when I’m kicking in your door?”

He chuckled, nodding, “Especially then.”

Your heart was racing inside your chest—you were almost certain that Bishop could hear it as he sat next to you. This wasn’t where you had been picturing the conversation going. Everything that you’d kept bottled up for years was bubbling to the surface as you smiled over at him, “I love you too.”

“And I’m sorry for yelling at you when you came to the clubhouse,” he sighed, “I just…I was picturing the worst and I didn’t want you caught in the middle of it.”

“You worry too much.”

He chuckled, his gaze meeting yours, “Someone has to.”

You felt like you were supposed to have something profound and meaningful to say. But as you sat there next to him and let him stare deep into your eyes, there wasn’t a single word or phrase that came to mind that could say what you really felt. That being the case, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he rested his hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips attached to his. You braced yourself against him as you leaned farther and farther into the kiss. His fingertips pressed lightly into your neck and you wished that you could just melt completely into him.

When you finally pulled away, both of you had satisfied smiles on your faces. You laughed quietly as you reached up, tracing your fingers through his beard, “Do me one favor, Obispo?”

He nodded, “Anything.”

“Fix that fucking door,” you laughed, “Next time I wanna come and see you I don’t want to feel like I’m committing a criminal act.”

He laughed, kissing your temple, “I can do that for you,” he paused, “Thank you for not giving up on me. I know I don’t make it easy.”

You chuckled, “Neither of us make it easy. Keeps us both humble.”

He pulled you into another soft kiss, “I love you.”

You kept your forehead pressed against his, “I love you too.”

[shushiyuii]

Subject R4NB00 and Subject T3CHN0 (Part 3 of Subject T0M Au)

AAAAAA Part 3! I Hope you guy’s enjoy Phil’s story!

Warnings: Fighting (It’s a misunderstanding) and mentions of fearplay

Words: 1.3K

Document – Subject R4NB00 and Subject T3CHN0

Assigned to: Doctor Philza Watson (High standing)

R4NB00 is a tall humanoid standing above 8 ft tall. They have a black and white fur coat, a thin fur coat to be described as silky. Their coat is black on one side and white on the other, their hair is the same but in the opposite way to his fur.

They have heterochromia in their eyes, one being green and the other a bright red. They also have horns of small height; they aren’t sharp and rather small so they wouldn’t hurt anybody with them. They also have a thin tail, with it being fluffy at the end.

Subject R4NB00 isn’t the biggest fan of the regular attire assigned to all subjects, they rather wear a tuxedo embedded with the facility’s logos. They are also timid, avoiding conflict whenever possible. They also can speak but prefer not to due to being shy, they will only communicate with a select few.

Their abilities consist of having the ability to teleport at will and communicate in an unknown language. They also have weaknesses being unable to touch the water and having a state of mind of when they aren’t in control of themselves, they talk in their unknown language in this state and teleport randomly, they are to be awoken as soon as possible unless they are in this state for a test.

 Subject T3CHN0, also known as Technoblade or the Blood God. Standing above 3 metres tall. Subject T3CHN0 is boar-like in appearance with tusks, muscular build, pig-like ears, tail, and claws.

He has pink coloured fur with a texture akin to one of silky and soft. Subject T3CHN0 wears the facilities uniform.

At first, Subject T3CHN0 may appear aggressive, dangerous, and monotone. And that is true to an extent, with regards to rumours and incidents including Subject T3CHN0 a majority of what happened were either with caution or happened with some sort of reasoning important to the subject, they do not normally breach containment.

Subject T3CHN0 is approachable whilst being aggressive, he wouldn’t harm anyone, he’s saved several lives, to many Subject T3CHN0 is a hero.

Subject T3CHN0 abilities consist of being able to handle harsh temperatures and brute strength, easily breaking through walls and lifting cars. He is also quite knowledgeable in means of armour, swords, combat and oddly potatoes. Subject T3CHN0 is also very intelligent and important to the facility.

Entry 01 – 19/09/20—

So J’Schlatt’s asked me to do occasional entries in order to keep track of behaviours and shit, because of what happened yesterday, WITH TECHNO BREAKING OUT! BECAUSE I WAS SICK! To be fair nobody told him, despite not showing much affection. Techno is quite the worrier.

In regards to the incident, Techno has been punished accordingly for it, by taking away his sword collection and he’s pissed about it. Not much I can do about it though.

Ranboo was pretty freaked out after Techno had broken out, so I’ve talked to Wil about Ranboo seeing Tommy again and said yes so that’ll be coming up soon. That’s all I got.

Entry 02 – 20/09/20—

So, it was arranged that the three of them would be meeting up Tomorrow, that way Techno could apologise to Tommy, much to his dismay.

Also, Techno decided to apologise to Ranboo by just grabbing the dude and forcing him to cuddle with a small sorry? Fucking adorable if I’m honest.

Besides the usual amount of overwhelming paperwork, it was actually a pretty chill day.

Report 21/09/20— Meeting between Subject T0M, Subject R4NB00 and Subject T3CHN0

The meeting between 3 subjects was successful.

Before the meeting began, Wilbur seemed a little uneasy about Subject T3CHN0 in a sense of being worried for his own subject with regards to the recent incident. When the three initially met up, there was a bit of misunderstanding.

Subject T0M has misunderstood T3CHN0 intentions of meeting up with them. And instinctively grew in size and grabbed Subject R4NB00 and pulled them close to their chest in a protective manner.

Subject T3CHN0 is quite fond of Subject R4NB00, in a fury thought Subject T0M was going to hurt R4NB00.

So a fight almost broke between the two until the two researchers intervened, Subject T0M looked confused about the interruption but immediately remembered the circumstances and went to protect the other two, but T3CHN0 had beaten them to it.

The two growled at each other furiously, either one wanting to gain the upper hand. But then Philza told T3CHN0 to let them go, to which he denied his request, Wilbur made an effort to comfort T0M by yelling out that he’d be fine, but only got a saddened whine in response.

Eventually, the two did not move, in fear one was gonna hurt the other so both made the decision to let whoever they were holding go. Which worked and the meeting went well with a lot of them bonding. Subject T3CHN0 also apologised in regards to the recent incident.

Entry 03 – 24/09/20—

So Today I met up with Wil to spend time with him for the day, and also get to know Tommy a small bit, despite my worries it actually went really well. He and Wil are a pretty good pair in my opinion and honestly, Tommy is adorable.

Despite the accident with Tommy putting Wilbur in his mouth for the first time ever. It was really fun! I look forward to seeing more of the guy!

Entry 04 – 26/09/20—

Update on the two of them, Techno got his sword collection back and he’s been pretty chill since the incident, it’s been pretty good for him. But as for Ranboo, he recently had an Ender walk.

Which wasn’t a very pleasant experience trying to run around the facility to find him, he’s okay now though, his head’s just a little fuzzy but nothing else other than that seems wrong. Glad the guys are okay, don’t want him hurt or anything.

The funny thing that came out of this is that Ranboo now has to clean out his cell of flowers and dirt.

Entry 05 – 29/09/20—

Today, Wilbur came to help out with work since there’s been a lot of paperwork and meetings recently, I rarely have time for myself these days it seems.

By the time I came back Ranboo, Techno and Wil were chatting, it looked pretty wholesome if I’m honest. I’m glad Wilburs making friends.

He said when he was taking care of them, he and Techno had some roughhousing. Wonder what that must have been like!

Entry 06 – 30/09/20—

Well, since that interview on that popular show, I’ve had a lot of people come in for becoming an intern and some of them were just either unqualified or not just what I’m looking for, I’ve referred them to other people in the building.

Now, there is one that’s caught my eye, his name’s Tubbo Underscore, studying both physics and chemistry. Excelling at it even, he’s top of his class in one of the highest state universities.

Not only that the kid is actually quite talented with explosives surprisingly and has a strange obsession with bees. He seems very interesting. I’ll bring him in for an interview.

Entry 07 – 3/10/20—

So good news! Tubbo got the job and today was his first day here. He was an extreme help and actually got along really well with both Techno and Ranboo.

Actually, he seems to have taken a really big liking to Ranboo and Ranboo has definitely taken a liking to him as well with Ranboo constantly asking about the boy like “When will he be back?” and talking about the positives of him.

Luckily, Tubbo has a lot of spare time, so I’ll bring the boy in for a lot of shifts. I’m looking forward to working with him.

(End of document)

[thewriterowl]

hey owl it’s me i’m in your inbox now. i politely ask your headcanons on dins reaction to finding out about all the things luke has been through but NOT from luke, could be lukes friends, random people who witnessed or even people in the squadron so i can sit here and go 🙃 about lukes trauma

Hello my dear @elloitselmo!! Oh you bet I would be so happy to share this to the world! Our favorite topic of every day:

Let's all make it clear in the fact that sweetheart Luke has SUFFERED. The boy has had so little luck in everything he has faced but has come to be a gentle, forgiving, hopeful and kind young man despite everything he has gone through. Now, whenever Din makes any inquiry about it, Luke just brushes it off as not very interesting or not very different from other's with a hard past...or he'll explain things very simply.

Luke: Yeah, I've lost family (meaning "My mother died giving birth to me, my father's soul practically died then but I just was told he died after believing he abandoned me, my aunt and uncle died and i found their bodies, my mentor who became a father-figure died and I witnessed it, my best friend and possible crush died and I heard it, my TaunTaun died in front of me, another close friend of mine died behind me and I witnessed his body then get crushed, many in my squadron died and I witnessed it, my second mentor died, and then my not-dead father died!")

or

Luke: Like a lot in the rebellion I went through some hard times (meaning "I am an Empath and was unaware how much I felt on people dying and how it affected me, went through loads of gruesome horrible battles, have had a lot of experiences and witnesses of death, had to go through a soul/mind/body breaking training to get prepared to face a genocidal monster who had been training almost non-stop since he was nine, found out this genocial monster was my father--so i tried to kill myself cause I sorta lost my mind for a second, had my best friend get kidnapped, went through tons of missions, was nearly drowned by someone who hated me for who my father was, been tortured, faced the Empire, was tortured again, had to carry my dying father in my arms, have my father die in my arms, burn my father alone, made sure to feel and experience death with thousands of people so they wouldn't be alone...oh and that was just after i was nineteen and up to twenty-five! I didn't cover being a kid or afterwards...I've had some mental break downs...but just little ones :D")

So Din just isn't aware. Luke always does have a layer of sadness or exhaustion even with how happy and bright and sweet he is with everyone, but nothing to make him think that Luke should be a really broken person after all that he has suffered through. He believe he has just a "normal" amount of sadness from growing up in a very broken galaxy.

Then, he learns the whole truth (maybe Anakin or Yoda or Qui-Gon comes in through a dream, cause apparently right before Luke meets Din Obi-Wan moves on into the Force so, hey!, another sad moment, Luke can't see him again) and whooo-boy...Din snaps.

So instantly, Din would just be sitting there after whoever informed him of everything leaves. He would probably be sitting for a few hours just...thinking. Stewing really. He would be unable to comprehend all that he learned about Luke and just cannot begin to really function for a while because he pretty much has PTSD listening to the years of misery Luke has gone through. He potentially gets sick or may have a moment to cry to himself because how could Luke suffer so much but still be that gentle and kind??

For a bit, Din is a bit torn. He is not one to take away a person's free will or choices...but he is terrified to realize he no longer really trusts Luke with his own well being and doing anything safely. Nor does he true the galaxy in not throwing more terrible experiences Luke's way (fic idea: we've heard of Luke having a vision of his future of the sequels--but when it Din had it?).

I think it will get Din to make a few clear decisions quickly:

1) He was to put a lot more effort and focus into being Mand'alor so he could use the connections, authority, and power to change as much as he could of Luke's life and make sure he is happy and safe.

2) He was going to find a way to marry Luke if they aren't married already.

3) Luke will be adopted as an official Mandalorian.

4) Luke will be a Mandalore citizen...and therefore needs to follow Mand'alor's rules and laws.

This means he will ensure Luke is protected, carefully tended to, and cannot just jump on his X-Wing whenever he has a vision and potentially go get himself killed because he does not value his own life like he should.

He wants to go on a mission? Well, he needs clearance for that--and to speak with the king and his advisors and just can't take off into airspace without informing anyone. If it's not approved (and it rarely would be) then, welp, Luke just has to stay put and not go get himself hurt because he feels like he must be a meat-shield for the galaxy.

Leia would be a little worried on the idea at first but, well, her brother would disappear without telling anyone and get hurt.

Then, Din would begin to talk to Luke.

He'd ask for details to get things confirmed and he'd start looking for a Space-Therapist so Luke can get some professional help in facing the horrible past he had suffered from.

Din will tell him, "No, cyar'ika...that's not normal. no, no that's not normal either. Is that...no, that is unhealthy...and that's heartbreaking and...No...holy hells, love, you'e never leaving our bedroom ever again." for everything that comes out of Luke's mouth and when he tries to play it off as nothing to worry about.

Din probably does have a few cries and/or bonks his head against Beskar to try and knock himself out to not think of any of this painful truth.

Luke, who is just sitting all confused with a mug of hot chocolate is all, "Did i tell you about the time I was nearly sold into slavery?"

Din is in agony.

[spencers-renaissance]

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 

Pairing: Gen 

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods. 

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

[defdaily]

THE STAR Magazine April 2021 Issue featuring JAY B

Translated by defdaily.

GOT7’s eternally sincere leader JAY B. A friendly interview where you can feel his warm-heartedness.

*This interview was done in informal language to give off the feeling of two friends chatting*

It has been a while since we last met for GOT7’s feature in 2017.

Right, hi. I’m JAY B. Nice to meet you. Have you eaten?

JAY B has been chosen to be on the cover of THE STAR’s 8th anniversary issue.

Dobby is free now. (Laughs). I’m a freelancer now but I still can’t believe the fact that I was chosen to be on the cover of THE STAR’s anniversary issue. I’m so thankful to THE STAR for choosing me to be on the cover so I worked extra hard during the shoot.

How are you doing these days? We’re curious to know what you have been up to.

A freelancer’s daily life is always similar. I work when there is work and rest when there isn’t. I was busy recently organising this and that to release GOT7’s digital single ENCORE. I took the lead and there were many things I needed to figure out such as paperwork. So I was very proud. The members have all joined agencies but I want to take a little more time and think about it carefully before choosing. I’m still a freelancer.

Does the freelancing life suit you?

I don’t know if it suits me but it’s fun. Now work-related calls come to me directly, so I would be asleep then receive a call. I’d go “Ah I fell asleep for a moment, sorry. What is this about?” (Laughs). Since I do even these kinds of small communications myself, it’s nice and fascinating to realise the value of work and opportunities. If I didn’t have this time and experience, I think I might have not realised the value of work as much. I used to be on edge at times when the managers used to tell me things in the past. But now that I’ve learnt how much processing has been done before the information reached me, I feel sorry. Now I have a heart full of gratitude for opportunities.

I don’t know if it’s because you’re a freelancer now, but you seem much brighter than before.

Dobby is free now. (Laughs) I’m joking. Of course it was very helpful having a company. But now that I do everything myself, I feel more satisfied. I enjoy it.

The GOT7 members have all started solo activities. It must not have been easy for everyone, how did you come to your decision?

Right. It definitely was not easy. The seven of us researched a lot so that we can continue as GOT7 together. But then we thought that we should broaden our view so each of us could end up in a better situation. In the process, what we each wanted changed a little and, there is a future that each person dreams of right? The company said we did everything we could do on our part and that they will cheer us on in the future, that made me feel proud. We are also very thankful to the company. I felt that we received a lot of protection under a large umbrella. After all, the company is like the mother that gave birth to GOT7, so I’m thankful to them and respect them. I also thought a lot and looked into a lot of things about how to continue as GOT7. I also went to the president and asked him for advice, and I greeted and thanked Jinyoungie hyung for everything.

While preparing for new activities, what was the thing most discussed amongst the members?

“So what is it that you want to do?” “So what do you want to do?” We asked that a lot. So everyone said “We have to do it" So I asked again “No, not 'I have to', but do you want to do this? Or do you not want to do this?” If you are going to do something, you should do it properly, right? If you are not going to do something with an active attitude, I think it’s better to not do it. So we all came together and decided to give it a try.

It’s clear that you are GOT7’s leader.

One advice the company president told me was that my talent and effort as a leader starts now. Personally handling matters related to our recent digital single, I felt this “Taking the lead as a leader, I need to really work hard.” There was a lot of pressure, but if I don’t do it, who would. It pushed me to work hard.

You mentioned very clearly in your social media livestream that “GOT7 did not disband.” I felt your affection towards the team, what does GOT7 mean to JAY B?

One extremely important thing in my life. Actually, it’s an indispensable part. I’m thankful for the fact that our team exists. You have to know that because GOT7 existed, we individually exist too. It wouldn't matter if my beginning was as a solo, but my beginning was as GOT7. That's what made me who I am now.

How is Lim Jaebeom different as JAY B within GOT7, JJ Project, Jus2 and ØFFSHORE?

Comprehensively they’re all sides of me but if I have to split them, they would be a novel vibe versus an essay vibe. ØFFSHORE and Def. are all about music I like, regardless of genres, and honest stories I want to tell. As for GOT7, JJ Project and Jus2, we would have a particular concept and make it a bit more fancy.

Most of the songs you have shown on SoundCloud are R&B genres with a groovy feel. Have you ever had a conflict between music you want to do and music you have to do?

I felt that I needed to work harder to prove [myself] to do what I wanted to do. I can’t always be spoon-fed. To prove [myself] I made more GOT7 tracks and sent around 15~20 demos. Later on Jinyoung hyung and the president acknowledged me and said “Jaebeom will take care of the musical aspect. You can trust him with that.” I felt really proud hearing that. I don’t really feel a sense of conflict between the musical differences. From pop and R&B to folk and modern rock, I don't want to draw lines between genres and make music that sounds good.

We are curious about the music JAY B will show alone and what you’ll pursue. What stories do you want to tell?

I want to do a variety of things. Alone, I think I will try mixing genres and do things that are fun and experimental. I can also do R&B pop or Urban genres which I’ve originally liked. But that might change later on.

Is there an artist you’d like to collaborate with in the future?

Someone with a pleasant tone to listen to. Even now, when I listen to music and I like the artist’s tone, I send them a DM asking if they’d like to collaborate. And Korea's top hip hop artist, IU-nim. Do you think it's possible? (Laughs).

Then would you like to send a message to IU?

Suddenly? Um… I will work very hard. If by chance you think my song is alright, I would love for you to add your nice voice to them. (Laughs)

An appearance that may seem cold with a tsundere charm. But what do you think your real personality is like?

I’m the type that is quiet and calm, but people close to me tell me I’m a weird person. When I cry reading a book or watching a movie, or when I get emotional they say “It’s so weird, it doesn’t suit you.”

Are you the tender type?

I think I just often get hit by waves of emotions.

We’re curious about the lifestyle you seek and your values.

To live each day without any regrets.

Is there a place you’d like to visit after COVID-19 ends?

Kyoto, Japan. It’s a place where there is a lot of Japanese heritage and it’s also pretty.

Recently you have combined your two Instagram accounts @jaybnow.hr and @def.cnvs, what was the reason?

I’m the one doing everything after all, it is just the musical name that was different. I can’t split my body into two. I realised I could combine them into one account and just show the difference within it. And as I get older, it’s hard to manage two accounts. (Laughs). Was I too honest? Now I'm confused about what's what.

Was there any other moment that made you feel old?

I don’t do much and my whole body aches. In the past, my body wouldn’t get affected by the weather. Now when the weather is gloomy my back hurts and my knees go numb. (Laughs).

I can see that you’re interested in artistic aspects such as photography, painting and fashion etc. Do these things influence your music?

Of course. They affect the way you live in itself. I’m a person who wants to express and leave behind what I feel. Calling myself an artist feels somehow cocky.

What are you interested in recently?

It’s not art but I’m interested in moving around. Living as a freelancer, I spent more time lying down at home, but now I need a fast-paced daily life. I try to wake up in the morning to eat breakfast and nutritional supplements then go outside to photosynthesize and soak in the world. Everyone has to keep moving. (Laughs).

Are you interested in fashion and lifestyle curation and design etc?

I don’t think I’m a person who dresses up exceptionally well, but if someone asks I’d be willing to help.

What would you introduce as JAY B’s preference?

Freedom. Regarding fashion too, I liked vintage and grunge styles but recently I’m interested in work look and amecage styles. My preference keeps changing. I can't define myself clearly either, but I like the sense of being free.

What inspires you?

Many situations and people, my experiences as well as indirect experiences.

How do you have an indirect experience?

Watching movies and reading books. Nowadays I read song lyrics and unfold the scenes in my head. I try to think of various points of view in these one-act plays.

To JAY B, love is?

Nonexistent. A moment. I don’t know. As you live life, I think falling in love is a momentary emotion. If it lasts long, I think it’s affection not love. I'm a person who has to talk about love, but sometimes I wonder if it’s okay to feel this way. There are also many different forms of love. The love that my parents give me and the love that my fans send me. I’m thankful for everything.

While promoting for 10 years, what was the happiest moment and most lacking point?

I feel like every moment until now has been somehow lacking. Whenever you look back you end up thinking “I should’ve done better back then.” I think everyone feels that way. But I never regret those times I’ve spent. The happiest instance was when I spotted my parents at a fanmeeting and ran to them and held them while singing. It felt like I was boasting to my fans “These people are my father and mother,” and it also felt like I was showing my parents how I was receiving that many fans’ love and support. I'm thankful that the fans looked at my family happily at that moment.

Have you ever had a slump?

I don't think about something if I think I'm going to fall into something serious, but I'm the type who gets stressed out to do something new.

You are loved not only in Korea but also abroad, have you ever thought about why your fans like you so much?

A lot. I just don't understand. I'm not even popular among my friends... Why on earth?

Think of at least one thing.

Maybe it’s because I worked hard steadily? To be honest, during the past 10 years I have never not tried my best on stage. I can say this with confidence. I’m thankful to be able to do what I like as a job. I have told the members about this previously, I’m sorry for not being affectionate to fans onstage. It’s my nature so I can’t help it. But I have never been indifferent as a singer onstage, that is a fact.

Your bucket list that you surely want to achieve this year?

Being healthy mentally and physically. Since the members have started their solo activities this year, I think I should release an album as well.

Any words for the readers?

Everyone, I’m not saying this as a formal greeting but I really want to say thank you. Hmm… How should I put this? Don’t worry since we are not disbanding. That’s why I tried hard to release the digital single. Continuing on I’m going to try my best to do as much as I can. You might feel disappointed at times along the way, and I apologize in advance for that. But what I can promise is that I’m going to do my best. Thank you so much for supporting me for 10 years. You all know this already, but I’m not so good at things like sending hearts and saying thanks affectionately. I just want to speak sincerely. Thank you so much. I hope everyone will be more happy, not just because you like and support us… I could sound arrogant saying it like this but... I hope our fans are sturdy people who will find their own small sources of happiness in their daily lives even if that isn’t us. And I hope everyone is happy. I’m so thankful and I want to ask you to trust me.

Lastly let us know your future plans.

We will try our best to match our times and do GOT7, JJ Project and Jus2 etc. no matter what. Even if our times don’t match somehow, we’ll try our best to gather even 4 or 5 people and return, so don’t worry. And Dobby is free now. (Laughs). I will do my best in everything. I've made a lot of songs and I'm diligently working on songs right now too, so look forward to it. You’ll be able to listen to it soon. Thank you. This has been GOT7 JAY B. Please give lots of love to The Star’s April issue!

Translated by defdaily.

[stargazer-sims]

- forty-four -

Jin is relieved that Fox’s father allows himself to be directed into the unoccupied room next door to Fox’s. It’s obvious he’s not happy about it, but Jin guesses he’s at least got enough sense to not create any more of a scene than has already occurred.

“I don’t appreciate you trying to stop me from seeing my son,” the man says, the moment the door closes behind him.

Jin is prepared for the conversation that’s inevitably going to unfold from this irritable statement. Mr. Abbottsford certainly isn’t the first upset family member he’s had to deal with, and he’s sure he won’t be the last.

“Mr. Abbottsford, we’ve got rules here,” Jin tells him. “When I asked you to wait, I wasn’t doing it just to hear myself talk. Patients are only allowed two visitors at a time, and Fox already had two when you got here. I wasn’t trying to stop you from seeing him. You could have, if you’d actually waited like you assured me you would.”

“What do you mean, I could have?” he says. “I’m going to, as soon as those people leave.”

“No,” says Jin. “You’re not.”

“You can’t prevent me.”

“As a matter of fact, I can. I’m your son’s primary care nurse, and I have discretion to make that call. I’m making it because you aren’t benefiting his recovery at the moment.”

“I’m his father, and—”

Jin interrupts him before he gets going, already frustrated with his whiny tone and apparent unwillingness to listen. He really does try not to let his exasperation creep into his voice, but it does nevertheless, despite the effort. “With all due respect, sir, I wouldn’t give a rat’s arse if you were the Prime Minister of Canada. The rules apply to everyone, and it’s my job to make sure they’re followed by everyone, to protect my patients.”

“Fox doesn’t need to be protected from me,” Mr. Abbottsford says. “He needs me.”

Jin takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. “What he needs is someone who can support him emotionally. Do you think you can do that?”

“Of course I can.”

“And would you say that’s what you were doing out in the corridor just now? In my experience, emotional support doesn’t typically involve upsetting people to the point of crying.”

“Fox is… fragile.”

“He’s not as fragile as you think,” Jin says. “He’s brave and resilient, and just in the few days I’ve had him on my caseload, he’s made some remarkable progress.”

“Progress with what?” Mr. Abbottsford asks. He looks perplexed, and Jin realizes his comment has had the unexpected effect of distracting the older man from his imminent rant. "What would he be required to do that he'd even need to make progress with?"

“I’m sure you’re aware he was afraid of needles if he wasn’t the one holding them,” Jin says. “You might be pleased to know that’s most likely not going to be a problem going forward. We’ve been working on his self-confidence a bit, as well. He’s got quite a lot of anxiety. I think he’d really benefit from talking to a psychologist.”

“My son doesn’t need a psychologist. He’s not crazy.”

"No, of course he’s not,” Jin says. “He's frightened. Of practically everything.” Probably because of you, he wants to add, but doesn't.

"Fox has always been nervous," Mr. Abbottsford says. "He's never been good at dealing with anything stressful, and that's exactly why he needs his mother and me. We usually handle things that are too difficult for him, and we do the best we can to make his life as easy as possible. We're always going to take care of him, which is why I don't think much of everyone around here trying to interfere. First, his doctor wouldn't tell me anything, and now you won't even let me see him."

"That's..." Jin begins, but has to pause and take another calming breath before he goes on. "Mr. Abbottsford, no one is interfering. Fox is an adult. The reason Dr. Sato wouldn't tell you anything isn't because she doesn't want you to know. It's because Fox has a right to privacy, and he has the right to make decisions for himself. That includes decisions about his medical care."

"He's never made decisions about his own medical care before. He's never had to."

"That may be so, but he came in alone, as an adult. We're not in the habit of assuming anything about people. Adults get to make their own decisions, unless someone gives us legal paperwork to say they can't. Have you got documents like that?"

"I think you know I don't," Mr. Abbottsford says. "All I want is for my son to be safe and well taken care of. I don't want to make an issue of this. I just want to see him and to be sure he's all right."

"He's safe, and we're taking good care of him," Jin says. "You can see him tomorrow, if you can assure me you'll be calm and you'll follow the rules."

"You—“

"Mr. Abbottsford," Jin says firmly. "Listen to me. I know you’re worried about Fox, and I understand you want what's best for him, but there's a point at which you've got to give up some control. Let him sort things out for himself. He's perfectly capable."

"But, what if he needs help?"

"If he needs help, he'll ask for it. He's capable of that, too."

"You seem to think you know a lot about him, for someone who's only been with him for a few days," Mr. Abbottsford says.

And you don't seem to know much about him at all, for someone who's been with him his entire life, is the unspoken retort in Jin's mind.

He thinks of his own parents, still living happily in their adopted country of New Zealand. He’s far away from them, but he talks to them every day, and he knows he can always turn to them if he’s got a problem. They’ll give him guidance and encourage him through the sometimes stressful process of making important choices, but they would never decide things for him or tell him what to do. They trust him to do what's right for himself. He feels fortunate that it’s been that way through his entire adulthood.

His mother in particular had been excited when he'd told her that he wanted to become a nurse, and even more so when he said he wanted to study nursing at a university in Japan, her country of origin. She and his dad were sad that he was leaving, but they never once tried to change his mind about his career path or attempted to stop him from going.

At the tender age of eighteen, he'd packed up his clothes and possessions, and boarded a plane. It was terrifying and exciting, and there were times when he questioned whether or not he could make it on his own but, in the end, he’d succeeded. He’s grateful to his parents for not holding him back, for supporting him in the background while he became the star in the story of his own life.

He recalls the day he left, as an awkward, inexperienced teenager, ready to start his future. He remembers his father saying goodbye at the airport with a hug and a proud declaration of, "You've grown into a fine man, Jin-seon. Any father would be pleased to have a son like you."

Maybe not any father.

He doubts Mr. Abbottsford was particularly thrilled when Fox wanted to go to Japan, and he suspects Fox's parents hadn't sent him off with as much hope and confidence as his own parents had done with him eleven years ago. The real wonder in this entire situation, though, is how Fox managed to convince his parents to let him leave at all.

Then again, maybe he hadn't. Perhaps he'd just run away from home. Jin thinks he wouldn't blame him if he had done.

"Listen, do you want some advice?" Jin says.

"Not particularly," says Mr. Abbottsford.

"Well, the thing about unsolicited advice is that it's unsolicited," Jin tells him. "Here it is. I'd say the best thing you can do right now is to go and find yourself a hotel room. Take a shower, eat a proper meal, and get some sleep. Then, think about what happened here."

"But, what about Fox?"

"I reckon Fox will be doing the same thing. Resting and eating, and thinking about today," Jin says. "Try not to worry about him. He's in good hands."

"You mean yours."

"Mine, and half a dozen other people's," he affirms. "His nurse on the night shift speaks passable English, and Dr. Sato chased up a personal care worker who speaks a bit of English as well, so there's always someone around who can communicate with him if he needs anything."

"What if he asks for me?"

"If that happens, we'll make sure he's got his mobile so he can call you," Jin says. "Anything else?"

"No, I suppose not," says Mr. Abbottsford.

"You check in with me when you come in tomorrow, and I'll personally take you to see him, all right? Just ask for Kim Jin-seon. Everybody knows me." At Mr. Abbottsford's slightly confused look, he adds. "Or, if you can't pronounce my name, just ask for Blue Hair Guy. That works, too."

Mr. Abbottsford stares at him for a handful of seconds, and Jin thinks he’s going to continue to argue, but then his shoulders slump and he sighs. He takes off his glasses and passes the back of his hand across his eyes.

“Can I please just see my son now? I won’t try to speak to him. I just want to see him.”

Jin shakes his head. “Tomorrow,” he says, as gently as he can, because he finds that he suddenly feels some empathy toward him.

He can tell the older man is distressed and exhausted, and he knows that probably goes a long way in explaining why he’d been acting out. It’s no excuse for bad behaviour, however, and Jin is determined to stand by his decision. Besides, if he were to guess, it's likely Fox won't want to see his father anyway, after their confrontation in the hallway. The best thing for both father and son at the moment is to put a little time and distance between them.

Several more seconds tick by, and then Mr. Abbottsford finally says, "All right. I'll come back tomorrow."

"Good choice," Jin says. "Would you like me to tell Fox anything for you in the meantime?"

"Just... tell him I'm sorry. Tell him to call if he needs me." He looks away from Jin. "Anything else I have to tell him needs to be said in person."

"Of course," Jin says. "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear whatever you have to say, once both of you are rested and feeling better. Shall I walk you to the elevator?"

"No," Mr. Abbottsford says. "I can find my own way."

Jin watches him leave the room, and then follows him at a discreet distance to make sure he actually does head for the elevators.

Jin doesn't like sending family members away. He doesn't enjoy telling people that they can't see their child or spouse or parent, but sometimes it's absolutely necessary. Even patients like Fox, who aren't seriously unwell, shouldn't have to be subjected to any additional stress on top of what's already been created by a hospital stay.

Mr. Abbottsford chooses the stairs instead of the elevator. Nevertheless, Jin is satisfied that he is, in fact, leaving for the day.

Jin turns and heads back toward the nurses' station. He'll have to write a report about this for the shift supervisor and the nurse manager, but he decides that can wait. As always, his patients are his priority. He wants to look in on everyone he's in charge of today. He'll get to each of them in turn, but the first person on his list of patients to check is Fox Abbottsford.

He realizes he probably should've taken care of Fox before dealing with his father, but he'd had to choose a course of action quickly, and defusing the situation with Mr. Abbottsford seemed the right thing to do in the moment. If it'd been anyone other than Keiko Suzuki standing there with his patient, maybe he would've done differently, but he knows her, and he'd been confident that she would take charge of things. She'd find someone to help her get Fox settled in his room again.

Jin grins at the mental image of Keiko rounding up a couple of care assistants and bossing them with her typical businesslike energy. Many of the people who work here know her — she'd only retired a little less than two years ago — and Jin is positive that no one who's familiar with her would mind taking orders from her.

He laughs to himself, recalling how she used to boss him whenever she wasn't on her normal home care rotation and they were assigned to the same floor. He always went along with her because, in her own tough way, Keiko is unfailingly loving and compassionate and genuine in her desire to help everyone. He often wishes he'd had more opportunity to work with her. She would've been a great person to be on a care team with.

Jin had been a little surprised to learn that Fox's friend Takahiro is Keiko's son. He'd known she had a son, and maybe he'd even heard her mention Takahiro's name before, but he hadn't made the connection. Clearly, Keiko had passed on her gift for nurturing to him, and the thought of that makes Jin happy.

Generally, he tries not to become too emotionally invested in his patients, but there's something about Fox Abbottsford that tugs at his usually well-guarded heartstrings, and he's very glad to know that Fox has people like Keiko and her son Takahiro in his life. Jin has the feeling that during the next couple of months, Fox is going to need all the attention and affection the Suzuki family will offer him, not to mention a generous helping of Keiko's practicality and tough love.

His recovery is going to be challenging, and Jin suspects that'll have far more to do with managing his anxiety and rebuilding his self-esteem than with regaining strength and mobility in his leg. Regardless of whether Fox's own family is involved in his rehabilitation or not, Jin's opinion is that the best chance he'll have is with Keiko and her family by his side.

Jin-seon, you're putting way too much thought into this, mate. Stop, before you end up in dangerous territory.

But, as much as he warns himself to do otherwise, he's probably still going to think about it. Professional detachment is hard sometimes, and nobody's perfect, least of all him. And maybe it's not so bad to make friends with patients occasionally. For some reason, he finds that he really likes Fox and wants to be his friend, and Watcher knows, Fox likely needs reliable friends right now.

[reid-me-a-story]

Just Stay With Me, Please

Synopsis: Angst fic based on #10 and #11 from this list!  

A/N: I plan to write through most if not all of this list but please bear with me while I recover from a wrist injury from work! This Fic is written based on my own experiences while struggling with my own mental health problems. If anyone out there is struggling, please know that not only am I here to listen to whatever you need me to but there are also lots of great resources that may help you! Check them out here!

Couple: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral! reader insert

Category: mainly Angst/ a little bit of fluff

Content warning: mentions of depression, mention of eating and implied skipping meals

Word count: 1.1k

“Hi Sandra,” My voice is barely above a whisper. “I won’t be coming in today.” I catch myself wincing at the sheer volume that my manager decided to reply in.  

“Oh! No problem, Hun! You feel better, okay?”

“Thanks Sandra” I whisper back. I quickly hang up before she can respond and I turn over in bed, flipping my pillow to the cool side before pulling the blankets up to my chin. It's not every day I call in sick because I feel down. I only ever do it on my worst days. Today, however, is my worst mental health day I've had since moving in with Spencer. Since moving in with him 4 months ago things had been looking up.  I had been seeing a therapist, and my doctors had finally found a medication that worked. Then I woke up today with the nagging feeling of hopelessness and the feeling of loneliness sitting on my chest and neglecting to give me space to breathe.  

Over the last few months whenever I felt that way I would turn to Spencer. He was the first person in my life that not only told me that I could go to him whenever I was feeling depressed, but proved it each and every time I turned to him for comfort. He always made an effort to give me what I needed in those scenarios without bombarding me. He never forced me to feel better just because he was taking care of me.

Today I woke up to my alarm clock waking me up feeling fuzzy, only for me to turn over and feel the bed cold beside me. The longer I lay there trying to remember where Spencer is the longer the feeling of abandonment took its claim in my chest – causing me to remember the hurt and pain of previous people leaving me. Which in turn left space for the crushing feeling of hopelessness for my future to set in.

I tried for a while to do the things my therapist taught me to help me get out of that funk. First, I wrote down what I was feeling and what could have possibly triggered that feeling. That left me more depressed. I tried to go into my routine for the day, but the thoughts of getting out of the house left me more exhausted then a 20-mile run would have. All I did this morning was get up to use the washroom and brush my hair. After the last pass of my comb, I turned on my heal and padded back into the bedroom and plopped into bed, pressing my face against Spencer's pillow. The smell of him gave me a small comfort but not enough to get my shit together and get to work. That made me feel worse.

Hours had passed since I had called into work. I still had not eaten, or changed and despite not feeling like it, my brain knew I had to do one of them. I just couldn’t move from where I was. The thought of getting up seemed so unnecessary.... So, I didn’t. I didn’t get up to eat. I didn’t get up to change. I didn’t even turn around to answer my cellphone that just started ringing. I just snuggled deeper into Spencer's pillow and closed my eyes, hoping that when I woke up id feel like a different person.

---

When I woke up a few hours later to the door slamming shut, I didn’t move. I stayed where I was hoping that whoever it was would just turn around and leave. It wasn’t until I heard the sound of Spencer's voice that I moved. “Baby? What are you doing home? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I called in this morning” I grumbled back. Spencer shuffled over to where I was lying down, pulled the covers back slightly against my protests and whines.  

“Is everything okay? How come you didn’t answer your phone?” Spencer sat there petting my hair slightly.

I was going to lie but the look in his eye seemed to pull me out of my funk for a little bit. I sat up before replying, “It was just too hard.” Spencer seemed to understand what I meant. He just nodded and kissed my forehead. “Spence, baby? Can you just lie with me a little? I'm not ready to get up yet” I whisper through tears that are threatening to fall over.

“Oh, of course darling.” He kicks off his shoes while I slide over a little bit. He throws the covers back and slides in, pulling me close and into his chest. His slow rhythmic beating of his heart helps calm me down a little bit more. “Can you tell me what you’re feeling sweetheart?”.  

I tense slightly before shaking my head. It's not that I don’t want to tell him, I just can't get the words past my lips. He hums in understanding before asking “what did you do today?”

At that point I can't stop the tears. I shake my head and say through the sobs, “I didn’t do anything. I got up to use the bathroom and I brushed my hair before I decided to call in but that’s it”

He looks at me puzzled. “What do you mean you didn’t do anything? You got up, went to the bathroom and brushed your hair. You did what you could, and for that I am so proud of you.” Hearing those last 6 words cause me to break down even further into breath wrenching sobs that shake my whole body. “Sometimes,” he starts, “When we're struggling with our mental health our brain shuts down, and to protect itself it limits the number of tasks or decisions we can make in a day. Today your brain decided to allow you three tasks or decisions. You used your quota today and that’s okay. I am so proud of you for doing what you could” I nodded against his chest while he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“Did you eat yet today?” I shook my head. “I'll order something. I know you probably don’t feel hungry but I need you to get a little bit of food into your system, okay?” I nod “okay, is it okay if I get up to go do that? Or do you want me to lay with you for a little longer?”

“Please,” I whisper “just a little bit longer. I need to know you’re here” I hold onto him tighter.

“Always”